Sometimes You Need to Hear the Words
by AerynsFallen
Summary: Third chronologically in my own EoT universe. The three little words that are often the hardest to say...


**A sequel to my other EoT oneshots. It's pretty much pure fluff, mushy and without plot. Mostly brief moments shared between them. The next one shot will feature more action I hope. Thanks for reading!**

**To be honest, I can't remember if they went in-depth about either Rita's or William's backgrounds, besides the scene with Sgt. Farrell and their discussion about William's hometown Cranberry, New Jersey. I have no idea if such a place exists but I expanded on that. As for Rita, in _All You Need is Kill_, she is originally from the Midwest, a former farm girl I think. Obviously she can't be from the Midwest if I'm following the movie plot but I kept the farm girl aspect, and also kept the part where her parents were killed by Mimics. Anything else was creative license on my part.**

**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Also all mistakes are my own.**

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Rita and William were eventually discharged from the military. There was no need for soldiers, no need for even _distinguished_ soldiers to remain in a military with no war to fight. It was a freeing feeling. They traveled together, both agreeing without words that they could not settle, not yet. They were from different countries and even fighting a war, living in one country for so many months did not mean that Cage could stay indefinitely. He was loathe to return to the states without Rita. She made it easy for him, asking to go with him before he'd decided what he should do.

As much as he'd grown to appreciate the country of Rita's birth, he found himself eager to return home. And he was thrilled that Rita chose to return with him. There was so much that needed to be rebuilt after the war, and very little that Rita, as a former farm girl, or William, as an ad exec, could do to assist. They were both strong, capable of physical labor, but the United Defense Force did not want their help. They were simply pawns to those in power, and Rita in particular, was a danger to the balance of power. She was a war hero, intelligent, strong-willed and well-loved. If she wanted to run for office, she could and she would win. But Rita had as much interest in politics as she did in fighting another war. The world of politics was too corrupted for her presence to make any real difference. Her stints in psychiatric wards, or horrific memories of being cut open without consent proved it. There had been no trial, simply a word from the General and she was no longer a free citizen, no longer a person in the eyes of the law. And she was dealt with accordingly.

She felt the need to escape from the public eye for even a short while, and what William offered she gratefully accepted. Their relationship was now clear, to them and all those who watched. She did not shy from public displays of affection. Rather she was often the one to initiate them, staking her claim on him for all to see. William found it arousing, and slightly worrying. She was a private person by nature yet she seemed to want to flaunt their relationship and he often wondered why.

To Rita it was simple. She'd lost Hendricks to the war against the Mimics and it had proven to her how short life truly was. She and William had wasted so many weeks, losing time to their own indecision and sidestepping of what they felt. William was attractive, with women throwing themselves at him daily. She would not lose him either, she couldn't bear it. Not to some other woman, not to her own doubts, not to another war. So yes, she'd staked her claim for everyone to see, to leave no doubt in theirs or William's mind that she was serious about what she felt for him. Perhaps it was an act of desperation on her part. She still had nightmares of Hendricks' deaths, too many for one person to endure. She'd nearly convinced herself that it hadn't been love, what she'd felt for Hendricks, merely infatuation. And the thought scared her. If she could explain away her own feelings for a man she'd once loved so fiercely, then how long would it take William to convince himself that he did not love her?

In truth, she'd loved Hendricks, how could she not? They'd fought side by side, clung to each other in their darkest moments, in the midst of a battle that was certain to mean both their deaths. To share so much could only inspire love, but if that love was lasting was the question. They'd kissed desperately, spoken words of devotion that she was certain he hadn't felt, not entirely. It had been one day and night in his life, and to her it had been an eternity. But even the memory of his face was starting to fade into a fuzzy image she'd tried desperately to recall. Was it because she'd found someone else? Or was it because the infatuation she'd felt for him was wearing off?

How did she and William's relationship differ? Some part of her had recognized him from the moment he'd stepped into her field of vision. Some part of her had jumped into awareness simply at his presence. She was certain Hendricks had never felt that. She and William, they'd died and reset the day, shared a bond no one else in the world would ever understand. And she clung to the idea that through this, what she'd felt, what _he _felt was genuine. She'd remembered him, not his face, or his voice or his laugh. It was deeper, intangible, through the impact he'd made on her life, irrevocably changing it for the better. If she didn't already believe the only fate you had was one you set yourself, then perhaps she'd believe they were meant to meet.

There was one more obstacle in their relationship that she knew William was waiting for her to overcome, so patiently she wanted to cry at her luck in finding him. The words were often unspoken, hanging between them with so much anticipation. Rita held them back consciously, unwilling to give the world any reason to tear them apart. It was too much, having him at her side after everything she'd seen. She still dreamed of the pain of being split open, of being conscious and watching as they dissected her with such clinical fascination. She still dreamed of sitting in a padded room in a straight jacket and hearing the world being torn apart around her, waiting to be found, so helpless she'd been terrified. There had been so many possible endings to her life, and yet she'd been given this one. It was stupid and superstitious but her fear held the words back.

William sometimes said them, quietly when he thought she was asleep, whispering them into her hair as he held her. He said them with his eyes every time he looked at her, the feeling overwhelming her. She understood he was giving her time, perhaps unable to believe that she could feel what he did. She wished he could be the braver one, taking that step that she seemed unable to overcome.

It should have been easy. How many times had a man said the words to her in a moment of passion? The words were so often empty, a knee-jerk reaction to show his appreciation during sex. And she and William had sex quite regularly. She was often sore in ways she'd never remembered ever being. Their passion for each other seemed unending, the need to be pressed as close as humanly possible so prevalent she often jumped him at random moments. Often simply watching made her knees weak, the ache for him sharp between her legs. It could be the way his lips tilted upwards when he smiled, or the cute way his brow creased in confusion or even the way the sweat slid down his chest after a workout. She'd never been so hungry for someone in her life. And he returned her passion equally.

It was at the point that if he'd asked her, she would agree to marry him that day. Find a judge or courtroom or even fly to Vegas, anything that could bind him to her eternally. And still the words would not come.

Rita had never been outside of Europe so Cage was determined that she see the best that his home country had to offer. He thought about starting from his semi-permanent home in New Jersey but decided to save it for last. They started in Colorado, It was late fall and already the ground was blanketed in several inches of snow. Cage delighted in showing Rita how to ski and snowboard. She'd picked it up quickly and he loved seeing her after a race down the slope, her cheeks flushed from the cold air. They'd spent days on the slopes, or touring the state and nights in their mountain resort, keeping each other warm in their bed or by the fireplace. He learned much about her life as a former self-proclaimed farm girl. He learned of her family, her parents long-dead. He told her of his own childhood spent in poverty but with parents that had loved him. He told her of his drive to be more than what his parents wanted for him, a tomato farmer or small-town doctor. He told her of his compulsion to gain wealth and status in equal measure. It was how he'd joined the U.S. military, the attention appealing to his sense of self-importance, even if the pay could not compare to his former life. He was no longer that man, and Rita was quick to forgive his past selfishness.

They spent much of the relatively mild winter in Colorado before driving down through the country to California, rerouting several times simply to travel to whatever tourist attraction caught Rita's interest. It was nice for Cage to simply be another tourist, never having seen so much of his country before.

Their stay in California was short, driving from one place to another, staying at a hotel for no longer than a few nights. Still, it was bliss, to have no responsibility for such a short time at least. Soon reality would encroach on their vacation, and they would have to make some heavy decisions. After California it was back north, to his home state with more tourism along the way.

They made it to New Jersey in the middle of April. He'd long moved on from the small town of Cranberry but to him the state was nostalgic and it was one place he felt at home. Newark was the fast-growing city he'd called home when he wasn't abroad. It was enough of a bustling metropolis that his ad company had thrived, with frequent trips to Philadelphia and New York to supplement his client base. Yet it was small enough that it felt laid-back compared to much larger cities. Cherry blossom trees lined the streets of his own neighborhood, giving the air a generally pleasant scent despite the expected pollution. Rita loved them on sight. The weather had been particularly mild this year and the blossoms had bloomed earlier than expected, almost as if foreshadowing the days after the war. Too long had the world been focused on an end of days scenario, and now it seemed they were all ready to breathe a sigh of relief and somehow move on from the shadows of the past.

William brought Rita to his townhouse, not overly large, but lavishly furnished. The old him might have flaunted his wealth to Rita, his chest puffing like some proud peacock at the spoils he'd managed to collect. Now he looked around his home with a sense of shame, his once prized possessions becoming meaningless, proof of his past foolishness.

Yet Rita simply smiled at his discomfort, easing him with warm words and gentle affection. She could admit that she'd never lived with such wealth, and her own sense of shame was easy for him to read and dismiss. They'd lived worlds apart, not just in location, but in any other way that might have kept them far apart. Economically, socially, with different values and goals. Yet it seemed silly now, knowing each other as well as they did, that they would have found happiness with anyone else. Rita would never forget Hendricks, a brave man, and cherished friend. But the sense of hurt and loss had faded, the guilt slipping away the more that William shared with her, the more he opened himself to her scrutiny. She could almost believe that if Hendricks happened to be anywhere looking down on her, that he would smile at the piece of happiness she'd found for herself.

Their first week was spent by William showing her the sights, even driving her out to Cranberry to show her his old home, to meet the parents that he'd spent years avoiding. They'd loved her on sight, remarking that her accent was the nicest they'd ever heard. They were simple people, but William no longer felt embarrassed by them. They'd done their best by him and Rita seemed enamored with them. She said they reminded her of her own parents, long dead by Mimics. William could only hold her as she sobbed after his parents had stated they'd always wanted a daughter.

They'd returned to William's house, and after refraining from sex while staying with his parents, they'd christened every room in his home. It was only afterward, when Rita was snuggled close to William on his soft, but overstuffed, couch that she began to think about what everything meant. With William, she was home. She had no particular desire to return across the ocean, except perhaps to visit. A return would only herald the media frenzy that had followed her around the last few months. Here, though still a war hero, she went largely unnoticed. The United States was picking up the pieces, and the media was swamped with news of clean-up efforts, and a return to some form of stability. They had their own heroes that they chose to highlight, even playing segments of William's recruitment ads, much to his horror. At home she would be pressured, to take office, to make some difference in the nation that had lost so much. She found she was tired of all the attention, the nicknames, the praise they shoved in her face, even as they ridiculed her behind her back. Hadn't saving the world been enough? She'd once lost everything to the Mimics, to the fight against them. She figured she was due something in return.

As she watched William, her on her back and he on his side, she was filled with a deep gratitude. He was a patient man, a better man then she perhaps deserved after all her mistakes, and all the deaths she hadn't been able to prevent. Yet he'd done it, saved them all without a single drop of blood shed, without a single casket sent home to grieving families. She didn't resent him for it, she loved him for it. Even if he'd believed that he was leading them to their deaths.

His eyes remained towards her, though unfocused, seeing through her. She traced the lines of his mouth, the small grooves and skin imperfections that she so adored. He smiled at her, the affection shining through his expression. He loved her and she'd never had any doubt about his feelings. And only the world ending would take him away from her.

It was as if a heavy burden was lifted from her shoulders as she realized that he wouldn't turn out like her parents, or Hendricks, that he'd fight tooth and nail to stay by her side. He was a fighter, like she was. It became easy then to say the words she'd been holding back. She could give him this. She could be brave for him.

"I love you, William."

His eyes became as focused as lasers, and for a moment he stopped breathing. His gaze searched her, the hands that had been idly stroking her hips, and lay still in her hair gripped her tight for just a moment. She knew she'd made the right decision when a smile lit his face. Their lips were graceless in their exuberance, teeth nipping and drawing blood unintentionally. It only stoked their desire to celebrate this moment. He whispered 'I love you' across the features of her skin, his lips pressing against hers again and again.

And for that night at least she forgot everything else but him.

**Hope you enjoyed! I'll get another one of these out soon. Please leave me feedback or even prompts! Anything to keep my muse going!**


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